Wake of Devastation
by Kaslyna
Summary: Post 4x17. Myka tells Pete what's going on. Pete/Myka friendship, more if you'd like to take it that way; I don't really care. Whatever floats your boat. Title is from Iridescent by Linkin Park. K because trigger warning: cancer.


**A/N: Post-ep for 4x17. Pete/Myka friendship; more if you squint. Doesn't really matter to me how you perceive this. :/**

**Disclaimer: I own zilch. Or else this wouldn't be happening.**

WH13WH13WH13

She's numb; the drive back to the B&B barely registers. She'd asked the doctor to give her a day to decide; Myka has to return tomorrow afternoon. If she could cry, she would. Strangely, though, all her tears have left her. She just feels empty. Hollowed out, like there's nothing left inside.

She goes through the motions of going inside. She's lucky Steve's at the Warehouse; it's just Abigail and Pete at home, and she mumbles something about going to sleep in answer to Pete's question of how it went. She knows he'll demand answers later; but for now, he's letting her trudge up to her room.

Myka sits on the bed, swallows. She lies back and wonders if she'll ever be able to feel anything about this whole situation. Maybe she'll get lucky and feel nothing forever. She doesn't know which would be better.

The doctor had said this: it was still stage one, and that Myka had two options. The first was chemo and radiation; the second, a full hysterectomy. Either way will leave her infertile, unable to ever have children if she decides she wants them. And that makes her feel strangely guilty, because didn't Pete sort of offer a while ago? It almost feels like failing him, in a twisted sort of way.

There's a knock on the door; she knows it's Pete before his tentative, "Hey, Mykes, can I come in?"

There's no point in hiding from him. Pete is her best friend; he's practically her soulmate, in the sense that they're likely to live and die together. Or at least, she thought they would. Now her life's in turmoil and she's not sure about anything anymore.

"Come in," she tells him, voice strangely monotone. She should probably be worried about that but she can't find it in herself to care.

"How'd it go?" he asks, and a bitter laugh bubbles out of somewhere deep and broken inside of her.

"Shut the door, please," she tells him, wanting to preserve a shred of dignity if she can.

"What's up?" he asks, sitting next to her on the bed. He pulls her head onto his hip; it's awkward and more than a little uncomfortable, yet she finds it strangely soothing, especially when he runs his hand gently through her hair.

Myka swallows. It feels, oddly enough, like if she says the words aloud, then this will all be real. But she can't pretend for much longer with Pete. He's being surprisingly patient, as if knowing better than to push her right now.

"I got a vibe," he coaxes her gently, "I just felt like… something's off with you, isn't it?"

"I have cancer," her voice quavers, throat thick with the words stuck there, "Ovarian. Stage one, the doctor thinks. I'm going back tomorrow to discuss options, but I basically have two. Either way, I won't be able to have kids."

There's a pause, and then he's lifting her by the armpits and into an awkward hug. She twists herself so she's in a better position and lets him wrap his arms around her, face in the top of her head. For the first time since she got the news, Myka feels tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm here," he promises, "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, Mykes. Whatever you decide to do."

"Thank you," she whispers, and then proceeds to burst into tears.

For his part, Pete says nothing; he holds her, rubbing soothing circles on her back while she cries. Fleetingly, he wishes Helena were there because surely she'd know what to do, even if he sure as hell doesn't.

Pete feels her go limp in his arms and realizes she fell asleep. He lies her down gently, kissing her forehead before he stands and leaves.

WH13WH13WH13

She wakes up a few hours later, groggy and hungry. Myka gets up, uses the bathroom. After, she splashes water on her face. Her eyes are red and puffy. It's obvious to anyone who looks she's been crying, but she just hopes they don't ask. She loves her family, she does, but she really doesn't need or want their pity right now.

She pads down the stairs. They're around the kitchen table and it makes her want to cry again. Pete sees her, sees the stricken look on her face. He gets up, blocking her from view.

"Do you want to eat in your room?" he asks, softly so he won't be heard.

She bites her lip and nods.

"Go up," he prompts her, "I'll bring you dinner in ten minutes, okay?"

"Okay," she whispers, and Myka has never been more grateful for Pete and his pushiness when it comes to taking care of her.

She's upstairs on her bed when he comes up, a tray laden with the dinner they ordered in. It's diner night; a burger, fries, and the vanilla shake he knows she finds as a weakness are on the tray. She could cry, she feels that happy. She could cry about a lot right now.

"Thanks," she accepts the food gratefully, "What'd you say to them?"

"That you were feeling a bit under the weather," he tells her, "Steve didn't buy it, but he's not gonna push the issue either."

"Of course he didn't," Myka groans, "Is that too much to ask? To fool the human lie detector _once_?"

Pete chuckles, "I suppose not. Now, eat. You're gonna need as many calories as you can get."

Myka does as she's told, digging into the wonderful food. Pete stays, lying next to her on the bed. He takes the tray down after she's done. Myka goes to the bathroom then to shower and get ready for bed. When she returns, Pete is there, lying on her bed in a t-shirt and sweats. She frowns a little at how comfortable he looks.

"Pete?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you in here?"

"Because I know you," he looks at her seriously, "You're gonna have nightmares and wake me up with vibes all night anyway. Might as well be close to you. I'll sleep on the floor if you'd really like. I don't care."

"Thanks," she swallows, "But it's okay. The bed is fine. I trust you."

"Nothing I haven't seen before," he grins cockily, and she frowns and punches him in the arm.

"That's my girl," he chuckles, "Come on, it's late. Try to get some sleep while you can, huh?"

She nods, agreeing. Myka climbs in beside him. She reads for a bit before turning out the light. For what it's worth, Pete is true to his word. He's the perfect gentleman; he lies on top of her covers, claiming he's hot. She doesn't need to be Steve to know he's lying, and she's touched and grateful because it's already awkward enough as is without his body heat directly against her.

He does, however, allow her to pillow her head in the crook of his arm. Myka drapes an arm across his chest, lying on her side. It doesn't take long before she falls asleep.

Surprisingly, the nightmares are few and far between.

She chalks it up to Pete, her best friend and bodyguard.

Myka's never been more grateful to have him.


End file.
